


Stormy Weather

by KateyBarton



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Blanket Forts, Blanket Forts Make Everything Better, Dad!Barba, F/M, Fluff, Suggestive Material, Thunder and Lightning, Thunderstorms, cavity inducing sweetness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:18:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7254022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateyBarton/pseuds/KateyBarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rafael tries to comfort his frightened children during a thunderstorm.<br/>All the fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stormy Weather

 

 

Rafael rolled his eyes dramatically as he flicked off the television, throwing the remote onto the dark leather couch cushion next to him. He couldn’t listen to one more second of the weather report, brought to him by some ridiculous _pendejo_ in a flack jacket huddled under an inside-out umbrella. The dark pellets of rain were whipping his face as he repeated the term “storm of the century”, ramping up the sensationalism with every damp syllable. His miserable discomfort brought Rafael only a smidgen of amusement.

 

He had heard enough; it was now on every channel, every radio station and every news website. He got it, shit was bad outside but it wouldn’t guarantee a halt to court proceedings this week. Taking a long sip of the cool ochre liquid he settled back into the deep, cushy couch before pulling his laptop onto this thighs. He’d had the forethought to plug it into the charger in case the power went out but it made the thing too hot through his thin cotton pyjama pants. He huffed a little as he slid a thin green cushion between the laptop and his thighs. This case was going to be the death of him and he secretly hoped this storm, _Margaret or Matthew or whatever the fuck they were calling it,_ would literally put a damper on the trial date.

 

Reading the clock on the top right corner of the computer screen he sighed. 9.28pm. He’d been working for almost an hour to what seemed like no success or foreseeable end. It would still be almost two hours before he’d hear her key in the door, _if_ she could get home. Reports said the subways were closing and officials were advising people stay off the roads. While she didn’t work far away the storm could add hours to her trip home.

 

Though by some weird telepathy his cell phone chimed on the coffee table, it’s gentle vibrations tickling his feet as they rested on the polished wood. He reached forward awkwardly, grunting a little as his body folded over the laptop to scoop up the phone.

 

_I told you it’d be a bad one. You know the deal, counsellor. Back rubs for a month and I’ll expect the first one tonight. I’ll be home when I can xx_

A satisfied smirk played at his lips as he reread the message. It was a bet he had no problem making, though he really thought he’d be victorious. In his eyes it was a win-win given back rubs naturally progressed into sex. It suddenly dawned on him that she knew that too, her usual stakes were laundry or dishes for a month. _That minx._ His quick fingers tapped out a response on the glass screen of the smartphone as a booming clap of thunder shook through the apartment, momentarily interrupting his dirty reply. He winced as the rumbling rolled through his home and he could have sworn he noticed ripples on the surface of his scotch.

 

The sky was ink black outside the large picture window next to him with only the lazy blur of neighbouring lights and neon signs to illuminate the wild outside. The rain was now so thick he could no longer determine the individual droplets, it was just blankets of water washing over the cold glass. The wind was howling ghoulishly outside and for a moment he thought the building was swaying.

 

He resumed his typing, knowing exactly what to write to successfully distract her from her work. A small, strangled cough left his throat as he continued his very descriptive prose of exactly how he’d use his hands on her body. He was becoming a little too excited as he envisioned what he planned once she was home and the heat from the macbook on his lap was not necessarily helping. Pressing send he returned the phone to the table and moved to stand by the window, cooling himself by the frosty glass. He learnt his forehead against the pane to gaze down on the street below. Gutters were brimming with water and colourful umbrellas danced around the footpaths.

 

“Papa?” a voice, shaky with fright squeaked behind him.

 

Rafael spun swiftly to find two pyjama-clad children standing nervously in the doorway to the living room, only just illuminated by the lamp beside the couch. Five-year old Theo, all dark curls and chipmunk cheeks, gripped his little sister’s hand tightly, his other hand timidly pulling at a loose thread of his pyjamas. Rafael remembered how it had taken him _months_ to find the special Hawkeye sleepwear, leave it to his son to favour the least merchandisable Avenger. Little Rosalie hugged her plush giraffe close to her chest and her father immediately noticed her cheeks, damp from tears. She sniffed as her piercing blue eyes begged him for comfort. Her mother’s eyes, how could Rafael ever refuse?

 

Rafael returned to the couch and stretched his arms out to engulf the children in a bear hug, “come here.” He pulled them onto his lap and rocked slowly back and forth.

“It’s only a storm, nothing to be afraid of.”

 

Rosalie wept into his chest when another crash of thunder rattled through their home, white flashes of lightening painting a stunning chiaroscuro in the black sky outside. It was actually wildly impressive, though he didn’t think the two little people hiding in his arms would agree. He made a mental note to describe it to her when she came home.

 

He could feel the cool damp of his daughter’s tears through his t-shirt and he craned his neck to kiss her head, just on the crown, allowing her soft curls to tickle his nose. Drawing his fingers over the backs of their necks he tried his best to sooth them.

“Please don’t cry, mi corazon,” he whispered into her ear.

 

Her scared little voice was muffled as she spoke into his chest but he knew exactly what she’d said, it was the same question she’d first asked when she heard about the immanent storm. “What if we blow away?”

 

He instantly regretted introducing her to The Wizard of Oz last week while she spent time in his office. Rafael opened his mouth to speak before thinking better of it, settling for a silent chuckle instead. Fatherhood had taught him to censor himself, not completely but enough to not unleash his sass on those undeserving of it.

 

“Papa wouldn’t let that happen, Rosie” Theo answered before Rafael could speak. His chest tightened as he watched his son attempt to comfort his frightened little sister. He remembered back to a particularly sleep-deprived moment when Rosalie was only weeks old; Rafael joined mother and baby in the nursery during a late night feeding and she had told him in a quiet whisper _'one day, when we’re both gone, all they’ll have is each other._ ' He thought her incredibly morbid at the time, 2.56am to be exact, but with time he was coming to understand her sentiment. All he ever wished was that they’d look after one another, be each other’s hero. He squeezed his son tight to his chest.

 

“You know I’ll always keep you two safe,” Rafael promised them.

“And mama?” Rosalie cried out. “What about mama?”

“Mama is safe at work, she’ll be home in a few hours. And she’ll expect to find you both curled up in bed asleep.”

Rosalie wasn’t so convinced by her father’s assurances. “But you’re not there to make her safe!”

“Your mama is very brave just like the two of you,” he assured.

 

The text chime of his phone sounded again and he could just make out some of the text of her reply. He silently willed Theo not to reach for the phone; Rafael was all for encouraging his son’s literacy but this was not the time for practice. He was very advanced for his age and Rafael had no doubt he’d make an excellent attempt at reading the message. In an attempt to distract them he jabbed his fingers into their ribs, tickling their sides causing them to squirm and giggle in his grip. While they wiggled he clumsily stretched out a leg and moved the phone to the furthest edge of the table with his bare foot.

 

“C’mon, it’s way past your bedtime,” he huffed, releasing them from his tight vice.

 

Theo stood first, reaching for his father’s hand without missing a beat. Rafael knew walking back down the dark hallway to his bedroom frightened him about as much as the raging weather outside. Balancing Rosalie against his chest he gladly took Theo’s little hand and led him into the master bedroom. Gently he placed the little girl onto the queen-sized bed and helped Theo scramble up onto the high mattress before tucking them under the quilt. Their bodies seemed tiny in comparison to the size of the bed.

 

“Check,” whispered his son.

Rafael didn’t have to be told, he had the routine down pat and just because there was a change of location didn’t mean the routine altered. Kneeling onto the floor he inspected the space under the bed and gave Theo the all clear as he resurfaced. He did the same after checking the walk-in closet and ensuite.

“There will never be any monsters in this home, mijo. Your mama and I would never ever let that happen.”

 

Positioning himself on the side of the bed he kissed their foreheads. He had a plan – once they were asleep he’d carry them back into their own rooms. Rosalie would feel safer from the storm in her parent’s big bed and Theo’s newfound fear of the dark meant he’d be more comforted with someone sleeping beside him. By the time she was home everyone would be back in their beds and she’d be none the wiser. Rafael nodded, satisfied by his problem-solving skills.

 

“Okay, time to go to sleep,” he whispered noticing their exhausted faces.

Rosalie held up her toy giraffe, “kiss Sonny goodnight. He’s scared, too.”

 

Rafael frowned at the orange and yellow toy being shoved in his face. _Sonny._ A birthday gift from Detective Carisi; the tag said his name was ‘Gerald’ however his daughter had other ideas. He quickly pecked Sonny’s furry forehead and wished him a good night’s sleep before tucking him in between his two children. He couldn’t wait for the day her fascination with the toy ended.

 

“Papa you come in too,” she asserted. _God, she was bossy._ Rafael was constantly amazed at these two little people he’d had a hand in creating. Rosalie had her mother’s features but she was just like him in spirit and personality; she was only just three but boy, was she fiery and officious. It both frightened him and filled him with a great sense of pride. Theo was a carbon copy of him at the same age though he was placid like his mother, quiet and creative, often deep in thought. He was also very bright and Rafael did everything in his power to fuel both his creative side and his intellect.

 

“No, baby. I have to work.”

He watched as her bottom lip began to quiver, her chin shaking as she started to cry again.

“I’ll be right outside in the other room,” he cooed, trying to calm her.

 

As if by some cruel fate another crack of thunder rolled over the city, the loudest he’d heard by far. It certainly didn’t help his current predicament. To add to his failing argument the lamp next to the bed flickered as the power surged. Now they were both crying, Theo bringing the edge of the quilt up around his face.

 

“No no no no,” Rafael flustered a little. The lamp flickered back on much to his relief. “See! Everything is fine.”

 

It no longer mattered whether the electricity was on or the thunder had stopped, Rosalie was wailing and Theo wasn’t much better. Rafael remembered being their age when storms rolled through the city. He recalled the tree outside his bedroom that would rattle angrily against his window as the wind caused the most horrific sounds. His mother would gently stroke his face and sing to him in the dark until his breathing would calm and his eyelids grew heavy. Just before completely giving in to sleep his father would burst into his little bedroom to pull Lucia off his bed and down the hallway. Then he’d be alone again, the noises coming from down the hall far more distressing than anything he heard outside. As the memory grew more vivid a heavy lump formed in his throat.

 

“We want to stay with you,” sniffed his son, his eyes shiny and red. “Please don’t go.”

He studied Theo’s face, seeing himself staring back. Running his large hand through his son’s thick brown hair he silently recited his secret parental mantra: _What would my father do? Now do the opposite._

“All right,” Rafael brushed both his thumbs over their red cheeks. “Get on up, then!”

He jumped off the bed with newfound vigour and clapped his hands together enthusiastically. The tears immediately stopped, replaced by two very confused expressions. He rushed out of the room, beckoning them to follow him as he rifled through the linen closet in the small hallway.

 

“Uh-huh” he exclaimed while pulling out spare blankets.

“Go and grab the pillows and quilts from your beds,” he ordered and the two quickly ran into their rooms. While they were busy he tucked his phone into his pocket and began work.

 

They returned to find their father rearranging the furniture in the living room, moving the couch and armchairs around and shuffling the coffee table out of the way completely. Unfolding the blankets he extended them over the furniture and fastened them together using plastic clothes pegs. He worked quickly knowing the power could cut any moment as the storm further raged around them. His children perched on the abandoned coffee table to watch, their fits of excited giggles spurring him on.

 

When the structure was solid he took to fixing up the interior. He used the couch cushions to protect the little occupants from the uncomfortable hardwood floor and laid down their quilts to sleep under. He took his laptop, now completely charged, and set it up in the corner of the fort.

 

“Get in, little ones,” Rafael ordered. “Under the covers and pick a movie to watch.”

“Frozen!” Rosalie squealed.

“No!” Theo barked, rolling his eyes at her choice. “Wreck-It Ralph!”

“Nooo!”

 

The squabbling began before he even knew what was happening. He foolishly thought the two of them could come to a mutual agreement. Kneeling at the entrance of the fort he held up his hands, a silent order to stop squabbling and listen.

“Never mind, it’s my choice.”

 

Rafael ducked over to the television unit and traced a finger over the various film titles before plucking the DVD he was looking for.

“It’s time you kids were properly educated,” he exhaled as he crawled back into the fort to set up the film.

“Snuggle down and prepare to be captivated.”

 

They lost power fifteen minutes into Robin Hood, the children too engrossed to even realise they were completely surrounded by darkness save for the exciting glow of the laptop screen. Rafael sighed, tossing his pen and legal pad onto the coffee table before crawling into the fort to watch his favourite animated film.

 

“Scooch over, Rosie,” he whispered as he moved onto his side, leaning his back against the couch and propping his head up with his hand. He tenderly played with his little girl’s soft wavy curls, pulling them straight before releasing, allowing them to fall back to their natural state. She smelt like strawberries. He raised his head slightly to spy Theo, eyes glued to the screen, mouth agape as he watched the archery tournament scene unfold. He looked over to his father as a disguised Robin perfectly hit the bullseye.

Thrilled he whispered, “Just like Hawkeye!”

 

Rafael nodded as Theo returned his attention to the film, giggling at the hero’s antics, dropping his head into his hands as his little body shook with joy. It hurt how much he reminded Rafael of himself at that age, something Lucia reiterated to him when given the chance, and he prayed his son would hold onto his childhood longer than Rafael had.

 

 

 

Rafael didn’t hear the key slide into the lock, nor did he notice when she dropped her handbag and sodden coat onto the floor beside the door. The glow from the laptop’s swirling screensaver spilled out from the blanket fort, the first clue she had to her family’s whereabouts. His soft snores filled the otherwise silent room and if she were still unsure of their location his bare feet emerging from the entrance of the fort guaranteed it. Using the torch on her phone she knelt down to inspect the new structure in the middle of her living room; all three of them were sound asleep. Her children looked wonderfully cosy tucked in the small space as apposed to her husband who appeared incredibly cramped into the tiny portion of the fort he was allowed. It was all extremely adorable.

 

The warm sensation of soft fingertips running over the skin of his calf pulled him from his slumber. He stretched out like a lazy cat, letting his spine crack a few times. His neck was stiff from his awkward position and he winced as he slowly crawled out from the fort to meet her at the entrance.

 

“Hey,” his voice was heavy with sleep.

Kneeling before one another she kissed him gently, her hands finding their resting place atop his thighs.

“This is very impressive, honey,” she nodded sideways toward his architectural feat. She felt him smile against her lips as he lazily kissed her again.

“Fuck yeah, it is,” he whispered, his mouth hovering over her lips.

 

Cupping her face in his large hands he moved his thumbs over her cheeks, “Cariño, you’re freezing. Go get changed and I’ll make good on our agreement.” She rose before him, letting him lightly smack her on the ass as she made her way to the bedroom.

 

Careful not to disturb his children Rafael leaned over them to shut the laptop before leaving them in their cosy shelter for the rest of the night. He knew he didn’t have long as he quietly ran into the master bedroom and began work. Their bedroom didn’t provide him with the same convenience as the lounge room but he made do as he draped the blankets from the dresser to the foot of the bed. Utilising the final blanket he created a third wall to encase the two of them in their snug little fort. It was very makeshift and lacked the finer polishings of his previous work, solely the soft cushions to lie on, but it would do. Emerging from the fort he grabbed their pillows, even the decorative ones that he so often bemoaned, as well as their quilt and placed them all inside the fort.

 

The ensuite door opened and she tiptoed out, shivering in her plain t-shirt and undies. Though there was hardly any light she could see that the bed was stripped and Rafael was nowhere to be seen. She jumped when her husband’s head popped up from the other side of the bed, cast in shadows she could only just make out his cheeky smirk.

“Why should the kids have all the fun?”

 

She sauntered around the room to join him, crawling on her hands and knees to enter the fort. Rafael admired her from behind as she crawled in, eyeing her red underwear as the hem of her shirt hitched up. He instinctively reached for her hips to stop her from moving further forward. Admiring the view he dropped one hand from her hip to her ass and squeezed the fleshy cheek before crooking a finger under the garment to expose more skin. He leant down to leave a quick bite on the exposed skin causing her to gasp in surprise.

“Raf!”

He chuckled against her flesh before soothing the bite mark with a gentle kiss.

 

He followed her into the blanket fort and with a low growl whispered into her ear, “I’ll warm you up in no time, cariño.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
